The power of the Empire
by Goodiguess
Summary: Billy would never be the same. Not after what happened during his captivity in the hands of Captain Hume. He would rather die than being in his hands again. How will the crew react to his return? And how will he cope with everything he had to endure? Rated M due to adult content SPOILERS 2nd season
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Black Sails or any of its characters**

 **I decided to write this story, because in my opinion the focus of the series is too much on Flint and what he wants to achieve. When Billy came back he was way too willing to fall into line again. This story will start out in canon and as it carries on diverge more and more from the series. Also I wanted to explore more what exactly happened to our favourite boatswain/quartermaster while he was in captivity of Capitan Hume.**

 **Updates: every 2-3 weeks**

* * *

Bright sunlight shone down upon his body. He could feel the roughness of the sand grains beneath his shattered body. His eyes fluttered open. Vaguely he could see black outlines of two people standing over him. He heard their murmurous voices. Words he couldn't quite figure out. He tried to bring his right hand up to shade his aching eyes from the sun, but learnt he was too weak to even do this. The voices grew louder. One of the shadows kneeled next to him. Touched him. He tried to flinch away from the touch, but his body wouldn't move. His body felt heavy as did his eyes. He fought the exhaustion that threatened to overcome him again. He lost. There was a last word, though, he managed to hear before he indulged once again into the numbing world of unconsciousness. "Billy."

 _He had no idea how long he had been in the raging sea. Minutes, hours…it felt like an eternity. Waves came crashing down grimly. Billy fought against their strength, but he could feel himself getting weaker and weaker by the minute._

 _Why hadn't his crew saved him by now? Had they just left him there to die?_

 _The crest of a high wave hit him and send him tumbling underwater. He couldn't tell where up and down were anymore. He panicked. His heart beat went mental. He attempted to hold his breathe, but even the best diver had to get air sometime. Water filled his air deprived lungs and made his head spin. Aimlessly he kicked with his legs in a last attempt to rescue himself. The moment his head broke the water surface was the happiest in his life. He coughed up the water he inhaled. Sweet air rushed into his lungs. This had been the seventh time he had almost died and survived. How long would he be able to fight the inevitable?_

 _Lightening illuminated the black sky. For a split second he could see the outline of the Walrus in the distance. His heart sunk. He thought about giving up. Giving in to the destructive power of the sea and be done with it._

 _But fate wasn't done with him yet. A thick rope crashed into the water next to him. He heard men scream that he should hold on. A spark of hope returned to his heart. Billy grabbed the rope. He felt how it was pulled up. He knew if he could only hold on to it, if he could only get to the deck of the ship, he would be save. How wrong he had been…_

The next time he woke up, he found himself sheltered from the hot rays of the sun. Lush shadow surrounded him. Someone had laid him on a straw mattress inside of a tent.

Had he really made it? Was he finally save?

Billy took a deep breath. He instantly regretted it, when a burning pain shook through his ribs. He closed his eyes again. The pain slowly died away. Slow and shallow breathes, he reminded himself. He turned his head carefully as he felt he wasn't alone inside the tent. He caught sight of three men. Two standing in the entrance, another one leaning against the pole in the middle. His vision was still blurred, so he wasn't sure if they were familiar or not. "Who knows that you found him?" the one that leaned against the pole enquired. He had shoulder long black hair. His voice sounded familiar. "Only the three of us so far. "

"Make sure it stays this way," the black-haired man demanded. "There are pressing matters that need to be dealt with. The last thing Flint needs right now his him reappearing from the death."

Flint? Pressing matters? Billy was confused. What the fuck was going on?

"So what the fuck do you propose we do with him in the meantime?" One of the other men asked confused and a bit angry. "Randall and I will take care of him. Look at him. He isn't going anywhere in the next couple of hours anyway…" Someone sighed. "Fine. But as soon as he is well enough we expect to see him outside." The two men who had been standing in the entrance left.

The black-haired man stepped closer and looked down on him. "You're awake?" It was more a statement than a question. "You must be thirsty." The man busied himself getting some water. He came back with a cup. He hunkered down next to Billy and helped him to sit up so he wouldn't choke on the liquid.

Billy drank it in a couple of big gulps. He hadn't even realised how thirsty he had been until the sweet liquid had touched his lips. The man helped him to settle back onto the mattress. Billy licked his chopped lips.

"Gates," he whispered quietly. His voice was raspy and dry. Talking even physically hurt his throat. He didn't care; he had survived worse.

"Sorry, did you say anything?"

Billy cleared his throat in order to try again. "Gates…where is Gates?" Blue eyes gazed at him- torn. The man bit his lips. Billy didn't get the feeling he wanted to answer his question. Why was that? He grabbed the man's ankle. He wanted to know the truth. Still he didn't say a word.

Billy could feel how exhaustion threatened to knock him out again. This time he didn't fight it. He was back home. He was as save as he would ever going to be. He was overpowered by the need to sleep. His hand released the ankle of the man when he drifted into a deep sleep.

 _He sat leaning against the wooden wall of his cell in the belly of the Scarborough. They had bound him with iron shackles after they had robbed him of his shoes and his shirt. He licked his lips and tasted his own blood. He carefully touched his face and discovered a deep gash on his forehead. His features must be caked in tried blood he figured. No wonder his head hurt like hell. He pulled his knees closer to his body and laid his head onto his kneecaps. He had never felt that tired his entire life._

 _Cold wind blew through the small peephole at the side of the cell. Billy shivered slightly. It was bloody freezing. The ship rocked back and forth due to the still strong waves of the sea. He cursed himself. He should have never grabbed that damn rope. But he had been a coward. A coward who was afraid to die._

 _He knew he had made a mistake as soon as he hit the deck and realised he was surrounded by British soldiers. One of them had kicked him in the face and knocked him out instantly. When he woke up he found himself in this cell._

 _He should have known that it was the Scarborough that had fished him out of the water. How stupid could he be? There was no ship in the vicinity. Now his fate went out of the frying pan into the fire. It was known that the British had little to no regard to pirates. Why had they not killed him yet? Why did they make the effort to fish him out of the deadly waters in the first place?_

 _He heard heavy steps coming closer. His gaze wandered to the bars. There stood a man he had seen one time before. It happened when Flint and he went to Mr Guthrie's estate on Harbor Island. Capitan Hume of the Scarborough, dressed in a blue coat, knee breeches and a ridiculous grey wig. Still he had a dark aura about him. He smiled at Billy smugly._

 _"We have met before I recall. You were with Flint when I intended to arrest Richard Guthrie." His eyes were cold and full of contempt. "You know what that tells me? It tells me that you are a filthy pirate, not a human being. Less than an animal some would say," he spat the words. "But- you must occupy an important position within your band of scum. That is why you are still alive, in case you wondered." The Capitan clasped his hands around the iron bars knowing that Billy could not reach them due to his shackles. "You will tell me everything you know"_

 _"What makes you think I would betray my brothers to the bloody likes of you?"_

 _Hume clicked his tongue. "Boy… I thought you would say that. Truth is the more resistant you are the more fun for me. But I promise you, eventually you will break."_


	2. Chapter 2

When he woke to the fact that he was shackled yet again, he was enraged. He pulled on his chains; they wouldn't budge a centimetre. He screamed frustrated. He kicked around him and brought his fists down to the ground. He was stopped by the throbbing pain that shot through his body. The throbbing pain that stole his breath. He collapsed. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes. Tears of frustration, pain and humiliation. He swallowed them.

His back felt wet. Billy figured that his wounds had reopened. He didn't care. He preferred the pain to the sense of helplessness that threatened to overcome him.

He wasn't the man he was before he had gone overboard. He was a mere shadow of his former self. He knew it and the others would figure it out soon enough. He gasped for air as he felt a panic attack approaching. His body started shivering uncontrollably.

He hated himself for being so fucking weak. Hume had been right. He was broken. He had delivered what was promised.

When he had calmed down, he gazed around. Someone had moved him from a tent on the beach into a wooden hut filled with dried fish and ham, spices, tobacco and barrels.

Billy hold his breath as two man entered the hut, fully expecting his tormentor. When he recognised Silver and Randall he was relieved beyond any description. He was home in Nassau. The fact made his confinement even more curious.

As soon as the shivering subsided he sat up and looked at the fellow pirates, torn between happiness, confusion, agony and anger. "Why the fuck have you put me into chains," he snarled. Silver hold his hands into the air defensively. Billy realised him to be the man with the black-hair from the day before. "Billy calm down. Then we can talk, alright?"

While Randall sat down on one of the chests that was stored in the hut, Silver stepped closer and stared at him. "Hell, you know you are bleeding?" Billy nodded unaffected. "Let me take care of that." Silver approached him like one would approach an injured dog. Slowly to not antagonise it. "First we need to get that shirt of you," he explained carefully and reached out to pull it over Billy's head.

Billy flinched in anticipation of his touch. "I can do that myself." He pulled the cloth over his head and revealed the extent of his injuries. Randall's eyes widened, while Silver sucked in some air. "Damn…"

His chest was black and blue from bruises as was his back. Whipping marks spanned over his sides and along his back farther down. Abrasions adorned his wrists, ankles and neck. He had also lost some weight in his week of captivity. Some of the wounds were bleeding. "We will need some alcohol here," Silver determined and left the hut.

Randall starred at Billy and made him feel uncomfortable. He felt as if the half-wit could see through him. As if he could see what had been done to him. He looked down at his hands ashamed. He had thought if he only made it back to Nassau, he could continue with his life as before. But nothing was as it had been. He felt queasy.

Something must have happened to Gates. Otherwise he would be the one tending to his wounds, not Silver, least of all Randall. There was no sense in asking the former cook.

Silver returned with a bottle of rum. He took a big gulp, before he poured the rest over Billy's back. Billy groaned with pain. "Sorry mate, it's for disinfection," Silver guaranteed with a smirk. Then he busied himself wrapping clean rags of clothes around the bleeding wounds.

"Where is Gates?" Billy probed afresh.

Silver looked at him, he shifted uncomfortably. "I don't think…"

"Tell me the fuck where Gates is," Billy shouted at him, beginning to lose his patient once and for all.

Silver sighed. "Alright." He swiftly looked at Randall who just nodded sadly. "He is dead." Billy inhaled sharply. "Stop fucking with me." Silver shook his head apologetically. "I wished I made this up, but it is true."

Gates was dead. He could not believe it, he didn't want to believe it. The man who had told him everything he knew about sailing ships, the pirate codex and everything in between. Gates had been like a father to him. But now he was gone forever...and he hadn't even been there to say goodbye. His heart clenched in sorrow. He knew something wasn't right when the old man didn't come to see him.

"How?" His voice broke.

Silver swallowed nervously. "Flint killed him." The pirate stepped back a couple of paces, obviously fearing to be the victim of Billy's wrath. When he didn't scream and shout, but remained silent the black-haired man was taken aback. "Did you hear what I told you?"

"Yeah, loud and clear." Billy looked up to him. His eyes betrayed the feelings he didn't voice. They reflected anger, sadness and betrayal.

"You see why I can't let you walk around for now. Randall and I decided you will need some time to wrap your head around it." Randall grunted approvingly. "I will get you something to eat. Randall will stay with you." When Billy didn't reply, Silver shrugged with his shoulders and left the hut.

* * *

He felt bad for Billy. He really did. If things were different he wouldn't keep him in the storehouse. But he had no idea what the former quartermaster would tell the other man. The problem was that Silver himself wasn't sure if Billy really fell of the ship by accident or if Flint pushed him.

What he knew, though, was that Flint was his best chance to get his hands on the Spanish gold. As long as that was true he would support the Capitan no questions asked.

Was he shocked that Flint killed Gates? A bit, but he had done the same for his benefit when he killed the cook on his ship to gain the page of the Capitan's log. He was in no position to condemn it. Truth was Flint and he were pretty similar. Billy would see that differently though. Gates had taught him since the man from the Walrus had freed the boy from a British ship. Loyalty wasn't just a word to him, it was a creed.

He sat down on some boulder at the beach. His eyes scanning the horizon. A couple of clouds moved across the sky, the sea was calm. This island was a paradise for the likes of him. How much longer ,was the question.

If the torture that happened to Billy was any sign of how the British planned to handle the pirates, he needed to be gone by the time they arrived. If people wanted to fight for this piece of sand and rubble they were free to do so. Didn't mean he had to risk his life for the same end.

Silver opened the bottle of rum he snatched from the provisions. He took a big gulp. He had to come up with some ideas how to keep the men on the beach in line with Flint's plan.

* * *

 _They had brought him onto deck and bound to one of the cross-beams. Hostile faces stared at him wherever Billy looked. He could sense their disgust and contempt. The way they glared at him bothered and frightened him at once._

 _When they took him from his cell he had managed to brake the nose of one of the soldiers. The man stood back a couple of steps. He wouldn't surrender without a fight. And there was still a lot of fight left in him. He smirked at the man with the bloody nose._

 _Capitan Hume appeared from the lower deck. He stopped right in front of him. His aloof eyes hang on him for a couple of seconds until he turned around to address his men._

 _"Dear Gentlemen, we have caught ourselves a low-life pirate." His men cheered. Hume raised his hands to silence them. "Soon we will know everything we need to know to rid ourselves of the plague that is Providence Island." He gave Billy a side glance. "He will help us with that."_

 _One of the men stepped up. In his hands he carried a leathern bullwhip. Billy bit his lower lip. He had expected this. If he wouldn't cooperate, they would punish him, and they would make a show out of it. He wouldn't waver though. He was not willing to tell them anything._

 _"Let's start on an easy question. What's your name, vermin?"_

 _He refused to even answer this simple question. His lips where sealed. He wasn't going to betray the men who had rescued him from the oppression of the British Navy._

 _"Boy, you can save yourself some pain here. Answer!" Hume glared at him. Billy smirked amused. It seemed that the Capitan wasn't used to be opposed. No wonder, there was no brave bone in those brown-nosed soldiers._

 _"Suit yourself." The soldier with the bullwhip located himself behind Billy. He swallowed anxiously. He clenched his fists and prepared himself for the first blow._

 _All air left his lungs when that first strike hit his bare back with a crack. He felt his skin tear open and groaned with pain. The second strike hit him seconds afterwards without time to recover from the first one. Through his eyelashes he saw the perverted satisfaction Hume got from him being violated like that. It made him feel sick to his stomach._

 _The third blow drew the first blood. Billy had to subdue a scream. He bit down hard on his lower lip injuring himself in the process. He panted heavily. He wanted it to stop._

 _"Billy…my name is Billy," he whispered._

 _"It speaks." Hume's voice was condescending. He gave the torturer a sign to stop. "See- was that so hard?" The soldiers laughed amused. "We already know you belong to Capitan Flint's crew. What is your position?"_

 _Billy's eyes narrowed. He contemplated not answering for a second, but the throbbing pain from his back reminded him what would happen. "Quartermaster."_

 _Hume looked around complacently. He was sure he had broken his captive. "Very well. Now tell me exactly why Flint attacked the Andromache!"_

 _Billy glared at him with contempt. "Never… you fucking shit!"_

 _Hume punched him in the face hard. "Don't you dare insult me like that again." Then he stepped back and gave the torturer a sign to continue where he stopped. The whip cracked once more. Billy flinched when it came down brutally on his already beaten back._

 _Soon blood spatter covered the planks of the deck. If it hadn't been for his constraints that kept him in place, Billy would have fallen to the ground. His knees buckled a while ago. Breathing got harder and became stertorously. His vision blurred. The soldiers who surrounded him and cheered for the torturer were merely blue-white blobs._

 _"Enough." He recognised Hume's voice. "We don't want to kill that shit yet. Cut him down."_

 _Strong hands grabbed his arms and the rope that constrained him was cut. Billy fell to the ground with a loud bang. He was too weak to support himself. He welcomed the darkness that came upon him._


End file.
